An Invitation
by AsamiFuckinSato
Summary: They grew up together in Republic City's finest preparatory schools, and at a young age, were once friends. Now, with Future Industries walking a tightrope above the pitfalls of Chapter 13, Asami needs the help of all the wealthy socialites she knows. Rated M for substance use.


_Part I_

The young man in front of me in the queue kept nervously uttering the same phrase;

"It's going to rain tomorrow. It's going to rain tomorrow. It's going to rain tomorrow."

A life of vapid luxury never bodes well in the end. I tell myself that repeatedly; getting back on my feet has been no simple task, and I'm learning my lesson every day. I lost my fashionably extravagant address, lost my valuable toys, lost my entourage of fans. That me is done and over, the new me is rising from the soggy ashes.

A few weeks ago, word on the street had it that the Uhvatar was flopping around on that obnoxious polar bear dog, restoring bending… and her timing is dreadful. I finally learned how to style my hair without my waterbending, and I was just starting to work out my finances without being an athlete. I didn't like being poor, so I simply stopped. I did some searching and found my uncle, a corporate lawyer from the swamp colonies. I started working for his firm's Republic City branch. Things were really looking up, and I was growing to be content with my status quo. The thought of my one true talent being restored to me made me unhappy. It left me wanting.

The bending-restoring-clinic the Uhvatar was running was set up at the town square. The line took three hours, the act two minutes. A bit longer than average; Korra wanted to visit, but her Airbending babysitter urged her to keep things moving. When my bending had returned, I saw the same man again. His bending seemingly restored, the man sat under the wooden platform built for the healing.

But he was not completely healed. Something about him was still broken.

"It's going to rain tomorrow. It's going to rain tomorrow. It's going to rain tomorrow."

I carried on my own way. It didn't rain the next day. Instead, I received an invitation.

It was unusual to receive any word from Asami these days; though we had attended the same preparatory school, we moved in different social circles even then. The goody-two-shoes, golden-girl heiress rarely talked with the popular party boy. She thought I was the dangerous, bad type, I saw her as a gorgeous prude.

She still is.

I snickered at the scented paper and gold leaf embellishments, spelling out the extravagant "_You are Cordially Invited to a Soiree at the Westminster Sato Estate_, _courtesy of Miss Asami Sato_." The date and time: two weeks from then, which is now this very evening. The dress code: fancy. I could handle fancy, though I saw little motive to attend until I read the fine print at the bottom: "_Open bar and delicacies will be complementarily provided_."

That was enough of a reason for me to send an RSVP.

I throw on one of my more dapper suits, a satin black number that had just been collecting dust in my closet. I leave a white cotton collared shirt under it partially unbuttoned and necktie-less; wouldn't want someone assuming I've tried to pull myself together too much to enjoy a free bar. Out of curiosity, I double check the invitation before stuffing it nonchalantly in my pocket.

The address of the party, to my surprise, isn't the home I remember Asami growing up in the few times I had visited her for arithmetic tutoring as a boy. It was someplace new, miles out of the city. It shouldn't surprise me that the Satos owned more than one home, but the location is quite the drive out of town. Unusual that Asami would chose to host it there, considering the inconvenience to her guests.

One of my uncle's company Satomobiles is parked outside my fashionable brownstone apartment building in the north side of town. The thin tires belonging to the lustrous maroon convertible rest on the well-kept cobblestone street. I briskly hop over the driver side door, and turn the brass key in the ignition. As I pull away from home, I consider the fact that I was driving to a party to get drunk without having some sort of safe way getting home. But life is short, after all. Some risks should be taken.

* * *

_Part II_

The Realtor asked me if I was sure about the deal sitting before me; the home I had grown up in, being sold for a meager 850,000 Yuans. Though that wasn't chunk change to any of my employees, I needed the money and I needed to get away from that toxic place. The vast workshop deep under the estate haunted me, the chestnut paneled foyer felt empty every time I returned from a day at the factory.

I needed to pay my employee's wages. Selling it made sense.

"_It's a steal_, Ms. Sato. They're getting away with highway robbery, practically. Even though we had it priced to sell at 975,000 Yuans, the mansion and land surrounding it are worth nearly twice their offer."

"It's the first offer we've had since the home was quietly put on the market over two months ago, Mrs. Harku. I don't have much of a choice—I just can't live here anymore. I think this offer will do."

"I understand that, but weren't you doing this primarily for financial reasons anyways? What's the point of giving it up for emotional reasons if you need the money for your company?"

"It will do. That is all, Mrs. Harku. You'll make your commission, and I'll be done with this awful place."

Though I legally owned the countryside estate a few miles out of town, I would move in with one of my last surviving relatives, my Nana, my mother's mother. I sold the majority of the over-sized furniture and hired a company to move my personal possessions.

When it was all done, I closed the massive oak door one last time, locked it, and handed the key to Mrs. Harku. I felt as though I could breathe for the first time in months; it was over. I was free of the poisonous home.

The aged road took me over lush cobalt green hills of wild grasses and towards a forest of tall, dark firs. I glanced at the odometer, keeping track of how far away from town my occasional commute would take me. Maybe if there was enough flat land on the property, I could improvise a landing strip and fly to work. I had no way of remembering; I hadn't seen my Nana in years, and hadn't visited the home my father built for her even longer. The last clear memory of the property was a decade and a half old; the memory of my grandmother weeping over the closed cherry casket that contained my mother's body. She had insisted my father build the beautiful Gothic stone mansion for her mother, and loved the estate so dearly she often took me to see her mother there while she was alive. I can't remember how her voice sounds anymore, but for some reason, I can remember her laugh. It was a cheerful, ringing noise as she would play hide and seek with me in the shrubbed gardens on our day trips to see my Nana, her mother.

In a flash the dark fir forest engulfed the road, swallowing all light in my progress. I flipped my headlights on, illuminating a portion of the road ahead of me in a soft yellow glow. I took a wild guess on which right turn was the proper way to go, and was cast back out into the sunlight, fading as it crept behind the colossal snow-capped cool grey mountains in the distance. The road elevated over another dark green hill of grass, and the road turned to flagstones as I approached a wrought iron gate forced into a massive limestone wall. I parked and hopped out a few feet from the black gate, and grasped the sharp bars as I peered through. It was unmistakable; this was the home in which I spent so much of my early childhood with my mother. The tall, charcoal columns concealing massive windows with dark wood frames made the house stand out. I unlatched the gate, pushed it open, and returned to my Satomobile to drive through.

Engraved on the tall limestone column holding the wrought iron gate in place was the name of the estate: Westminster.

My new home.

Nana, with her tiny frame and frizzy grey hair, pushed open the tall mahogany doors and waved.

* * *

_Part III _

I check my silver wristwatch as the road grows more and more rural; 10:14, the party started at 9:30. It's never appropriate to be early or on time to such social events—doing so made one appear eager, desperate. Making that impression on Asami after so long is the absolute last thing I want to do.

It's already dark; I can see a forest approaching, but know I can't appreciate its beauty in the pitch-black darkness of this rural area. The invitation had included some directions, so I pull them out of my pocket briskly and glance down by the low light coming from the instrument panel. All I can pick out from it is "_Second right once you enter the forest_", though that was probably all I needed from here.

One possible right passes by, and I drive on for miles more. I can see red lights ahead in the distance; someone else is driving this way, albeit much slower than I. My foot eases slightly off the acceleration, and I see the red lights vanish as they turn right. The entrance must be ahead.

The right turn forces me back out into the open air, hills of grass illuminated by the waning moon overhead, a soft cool breeze tousles the blades into a dance over the hill. Distracted, I brake suddenly when the texture of the road beneath my tires suddenly changes from smooth gravel to jagged, rough stones. As I coast gently down the other side of the hill, I can see the vehicle ahead of me has come to a park past a massive black gate. A warm glow comes from the windows of the dark mansion, lighting up the grounds surrounding the home.

I pull my uncle's Satomobile into a makeshift parking place along the circular driveway. I hop out the car the same way I had entered, and gaze at an impressive yet inactive marble fountain in the center of the drive. My fingers find themselves tempted, and I poke at the calm surface in the basin. I draw a single drop up and out of the pool of water, reminding myself I can bend again. It twirls around in my palm, dancing between my fingers before returning to its home.

I smile, and turn my focus to the stone stairs leading to the entrance. "Time to have some fun," I mutter to myself with a single chuckle.

But as I look up at the overwhelming entrance, a single plop of rain lands on my forehead.

* * *

_Part IV_

I ran up to her as soon as my Satomobile came to a park, and threw my arms around my last grandmother. "Nana!" I exclaim. "It's been far too long."

She laughs heartily and returns my embrace. "Yes, my dear 'Sami. It has. Now come inside, I've been making some tea." She led me inside; telling me stories of her problems with the young new groundskeeper and dramatic conversations during calls from her few friends.

The foyer adorned with cherry hardwood floors and warm plaster walls, I glance up and around at the artwork hung from every open space. An oil painting of me and my mother. Portraits of Nana and my grandfather when they were younger. Long red tapestries that grazed the floor. The wall directly across from the entrance was lined with shelves of books from the floor to the ceiling, with a small rolling stepladder present for access to the dusty tomes. It was all coming back, the memories of this place I had hidden from myself long ago. Though the room was dark and musty, it felt fresh and new. I could start again, and with the money from selling the old estate, I may be able to get Future Industries back on its feet.

Yet soon after I moved in, I balanced the finances with the company's accountants. We had enough money to pay the employee wages and the operating costs, but no money for new research and projects. Without an abrupt burst of income, the Satoplane project would remain just that; a project, research, a prototype, a hole on the runway to throw what personal spare change I had into. I'd never make any money off Satoplanes or any other projects without a large, sudden investment. I'd barely make a profit with the manufacturing Future Industries does at present. I cringed at the thought, I felt as though I'd pull my hair out strand by strand.

One of the accountants suggested something bright as I threw my forehead down on the boardroom table. "Ms. Sato, why don't you throw an investor party? Invite all the wealthy socialites you know, all people who have either invested in the past or have shown interest in investing in the future. Get them all together and motivate them to help you out in your time of need."

So I did. I pulled together a list of almost 200 acquaintances and potential investors, and sent them all fancy invitations. I prepared the estate's staff to cater the event. I decorated and rearranged the social areas almost entirely on my own; Nana helped by making tea for us when I was exhausted.

And tonight is the event. Friends as far as the poles sent RSVPs, most of which sounded excited at the idea of free sake and bourbon. I can hear a soft roar in the foyer below; it's almost 10:30, and I have yet to make my appearance. The butler greets guests at the door, giving them directions around the home. The maid is managing the bar; she spent some of her younger years working dives in the city. I toss myself back on the wide brown satin comforter of my bed in my lacy slip under-dress and sigh; none of them are aware that they're here so I may beg them for money. What sounded so brilliant at first has grown harder and harder to accept, I'm throwing an extravagant party for people so I may get on my hands and knees and ask them for help. To them, it wouldn't seem I need it, but I so direly do. Hot tears boil at the surface of my eyes as my pride and dignity fume away.

I roll off the side of the bed onto the plush rug below the bed and slowly pull myself to my feet with the sturdy bed frame. A soft knock taps at the door, and I flush red as I realize I'm still in an undergarment. I dash to the door and crack it barely to see who is knocking. "Nana," I release a relieved sigh. "I'm still not quite ready yet."

The old woman pushes the door back forcefully and lets herself in. "That's no word a Kimari woman would ever let escape her lips. Now, let me help you."

I rub the back of my neck, looking for an excuse for my unpreparedness. "Well, I'm not technically a Kimari, Nana. I'm a Sato."

"You're your mother's daughter. You're a Kimari, too." She flips open my wooden wardrobe and fingers through my finer dresses and pauses at a long black sleeveless Qipao. "Here."

She tosses it towards me, and I barely catch it as the silk slides through my fingers. Nana begins to ruffle through my shoes as I slip the dress on and latch the intricate cloth clasps. I run my fingers over the embroidery that decorates my waist down to my right thigh; a red pheasant dances towards my feet surrounded by abstract swirls of crimson. It doesn't feel familiar, maybe a size up from mine, and I don't remember purchasing such a dress.

"Nana, where did this come from?"

"It was your mother's," she sighs as she pulls a pair of flashy red peep-toed heels from my selection of shoes. "This was her room when she visited with you, after all. That Hiroshi almost never came with you two on your visits, so she had a room and a closet entirely to herself." She passes me the shoes, and I sit down on the edge of my bed to pull them on. I then totter clumsily over to the vanity and pull my favorite gold barrette out of a box on the wood counter. Gently, the barrette pulls the hair flanking the left of my face back into place.

I dwarf my grandmother in these heels, yet she comes over to the mirror to look at my reflection with me.

"Such a pretty girl," she shakes her head and smiles, then gives a sudden swap at my back. "Knock them dead, 'Sami. Remember why you're throwing this party; you need to save Future Industries. Wouldn't want my husband's investment all those years ago going to nothing, would we?"

I laugh at her change in attitude and smile. "I will, Nana. I promise."

* * *

_Part V_

The guest who had been ahead of me on the drive is speaking to the butler, who seems to be greeting in place of the host. Curious, I walk closer, but draw away quickly when I realize who the other guest is. Hoping to elude him, I creep to the other side of the foyer and proceed towards the bookcase.

I don't get away.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey, is that Tahno?" I hear a loud, obnoxious voice exclaim. A large red rat-raccoon-creature is sniffing at my shoes, and I stumble back awkwardly to avoid kicking the poor animal. I feel a heavy hand grasp my shoulder and steady me.

"Hello Bolin," I mutter, pushing my hair flip back into place. "It's… nice to see you."

"What are you doing at Asami's new place?" He questions me. "Oh! And! You're looking significantly, uh, better since the last time I saw you. The bags under your eyes are gone!"

I grimace at the blunt remark, then try to force it into a half-smile. "It's a party, don't you know? Whenever there's a party with liquor provided, I'm more than interested in attending." I laugh once sarcastically, and rebuke Bolin in return. "And who taught you to drive? The Uhvatar's airbending baby friends?"

His rat-raccoon-creature crawls up to his shoulders as he pouts. "No! I mean, Korra tried to help me learn on the island, but the kids weren't in the car or anything, I…"

I snort, interrupting his thought. "Korra's not much of a driver either, I hear."

"Well, I got here without hitting anything! I was going so slow because I didn't want to get lost. This place is really far out of the city."

"Sure, sure, of course." I shrug, hoping he's lost interest in talking to me. "Now, excuse me while I go find the bar."

"The butler _was_ giving directions, Tahno. Maybe I can help you? Since you didn't want to talk to him and all…"

"I can probably find it on my own."

Bolin frowns. "…If you say so. Don't come crying to me if you get lost!"

"Bolin, if I come crying to you for any reason at this party, I'm probably intoxicated."

I start to walk off, but pause as the clumsy earthbender and the rest of the guests grow quiet and stare up at a balcony leading to dark wood stairs that wrap down into the clean white foyer. I glance up and start to walk again; the small orchestral band has stopped playing their concerto, the expansive room has grown completely quiet. A flash of black and red stands at the top of the staircase flanked by a frail looking, short, elderly woman. The butler who had been greeting guests at the entrance coughs in embarrassment and runs to the foot of the stairs, then clears his throat once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce your esteemed hostesses: Miss Asami Sato, chief executive officer of Future Industries and her grandmother, Madame Tsona Kimari."

With the old woman's hand on Asami's arm, the two proceed cautiously down the grand staircase towards the party. I find myself staring as the small orchestra starts anew; embarrassed for doing so, my head twitches and I return to my search for the bar.

To my happy surprise, it's only in the library, the next room over. I take my place along the counter in a comfortable, plush red leather bar stool and smile as my elbows greet the counter. The books lining nearly every wall absorb the roar of the crowds in the neighboring rooms; I can vaguely hear the clinks of glasses, plates and silverware in the parlor to the north of this room. _That must be where the food is_, I ponder as I enjoy the almost desolate conditions of this room.

A burly, middle aged woman in a maid's uniform is turned away, shining crystal glasses with a cloth. I peer over at her slightly, thinking she'd be attractive if she were five years younger and maybe fifty pounds lighter. I raise a brow in my curiosity, but the woman suddenly whirls around and nearly catches me looking her over. She frowns and barks at me in a gruff, low voice. "Champagne is being served in the parlor, kid. You look a little young for anything harder."

"No, ma'am," I cough, caught off guard by how manly her voice was. "I'm… I'm definitely old enough for some Soju or… well, what kind of liquor do the Satos have, anyways? I'd expect it to be… fancy."

She frowns more and leans a hand on the bar. "Primarily cognac, whiskey, and gin. Stuff mature people like, ya know, none of that candy flavored stuff."

"All of those can be very expensive, right?" I grin, excited to try more valuable spirits for the first time.

"…Which is exactly why m'lady has me directing those who look like they wouldn't appreciate them to the champagne," The maid grumbles once more, then pulls a shot glass out of the counter below her. "I'll start you off with the cinnamon whiskey and see how poor your manners get, boy."

I smile, pleased to have won her over. "I promise you, I'm always a gentleman." The ounce of whiskey burns pleasantly as it rushes down my throat.

A tapping sound comes from the thin window, and rapidly grows faster; it's raining outside on the night of Asami's party. "Getting home should be fun," I laugh to the maid, who shakes her head in disapproval.

* * *

_Part VI_

A familiar red flash of fur dashed towards me, and I laugh as I bend down to hug Pabu. The fire ferret dashes up from my arms to my shoulders and purrs happily as Bolin briskly walks over and throws his arms around me.

"Asami!" He chuckles. "I've really missed you!" Pabu hops back to his owner's shoulder as Bolin draws away from the hug.

"I've missed you too," I smile kindly. "I hope you're enjoying the party so far! You didn't get lost on your way here, did you?"

"Nope! Got here all by myself. Korra and Mako, uh, well, they decided to take a rain check for the night." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to put our other friends' absences in the best possible way.

"Does that…" I think, realizing Mako was the only good driver besides myself. Even then, he only really knew how to work a Satocycle. "You drove here? Alone?" I gasp, thinking of how dangerous it could've been for him to do such a thing.

"I got here okay, didn't I? Plus, I had Pabu," he points to the ferret as it chirps. "He helped me with directions."

Nana nudges me, encouraging me to greet and socialize with the other guests. Particularly the ones who actually could have money to invest, I assume. "Bolin, I need to greet everyone else… so have some fun, okay? You don't need to stay in the foyer for the whole party."

"Okay, Asami. I'll see you around!" He runs off towards what seems to be the music room—not really part of the party, but he should find something entertaining there.

I greet a variety of faces, some friendly, some familiar, some so vastly foreign I had to introduce myself. One man from the water tribes seemed particularly interested in my projects, so I spent some time discussing investing and airplanes with him before moving on to meet others. I keep his name in mind; he's the only one so far who seems genuinely interested in helping me and my company.

I give a brief speech about the needs of Future Industries from the stairs after gathering a majority of the guests around. Some seem happy to help, others scoff at the idea of giving a wealthy girl money so she can make more.

Minutes fly, hours pass, and guests begin to evaporate with their kind what-a-wonderful-party and hope-to-hear-from-you-soon remarks. Bolin hangs around, apparently having discovered the champagne in the parlor. He rests face-down on one of Nana's antique loveseats with Pabu napping on his lower back, sometimes muttering incoherent noises to remind us he's still awake.

I drift into the library, not expecting to find much of anyone. Instead, I find a familiar face.

* * *

_Part VII_

"_Tahno_?"

I hear my name called in a soft voice, and I lift my posture up from my mildly drunken stupor. I had enough to make me feel fuzzy and warm inside, but had slowed down so I wouldn't stumble out the library and embarrass myself. I liked to stay in control. But now, I couldn't stop myself from grinning widely.

"Hey there, Asami." I utter as smoothly as I can muster, trying to stay cool despite the cheesy smile plastered on my face. "This has been an _excellent_ party."

"Really? Because I haven't seen much of you tonight. At all." She folds her porcelain arms, seemingly perturbed by my absence from the rest of the party.

"Oh, I assure you, that hasn't been a problem for me." I rest my chin on my hand, placing my elbow on the counter. "I like this. It's quiet in here. Your bartender-maid seemed to be disappointed that I didn't get belligerently drunk, so she left me here with this bottle of whiskey." I glance down to the glass and bottle then return my gaze to the pale woman before me. "Has anyone ever told you that you could use some sun? I mean, pale works for us water-tribe people, considering how cold it gets up north."

She frowns self-consciously just before she glares at me. "You're so rude sometimes, you know that?" She walks over to the bar, snatching away the whiskey and stowing it under the counter.

"It's a self-defense mechanism."

"A very nasty one."

"Hey, it's not as bad as the eye make-up you hide behind, sweetheart."

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my left cheek from across the counter. My hand rises to comfort the rising swell of flesh, and I open my eyes from the flinch and see just how angry Asami is.

Her cheeks flushed red with her frustration; she glares at me and draws the hand she struck me with back slowly. "You just haven't changed. Not in the slightest, not since we were little kids." Her voice starts to tremble. "Why did I even invite you?"

"I think we both know why." I reel in my sarcastic attitude, trying to sound more sympathetic. "It's because I've been here before."

The tapping of the rain outside grows to a steady, noisy rhythm as it comes down heavier.

* * *

_Part VIII_

He was right; that was the reason why I even considered inviting him. The two of us had grown up together. Once, I even considered him my friend. But as we grew older as kids, the two of us grew into polar opposites, entirely different people. He was my friend, but that was a very long time ago.

"Do you even remember why you were here?" My voice trembles.

"It's the same reason I've been avoiding that parlor. Place haunts me, and your grandma looks thirty years older these days." He mutters so softy, I can barely comprehend what he's saying.

He had been the only one who didn't avoid me in kindergarten. The months after my mother died, he sat with me when others sat further away. He talked to me when others didn't know what to say. Tahno, at such an early age, showed me who my real friends were in grade school.

But then we grew up. He started to date a different girl every week where I studied a different engineering project every week. He went to parties, I went to science fairs. Late in middle school, I tried to start our friendship anew, but he had told me "_Sorry, I don't hang out with prudes_."

I raise my eyes, trying to shake off the painful memories from my adolescence. "Being wealthy didn't mean I was popular," I sigh.

Tahno chuckles. "Of course not. Your family is four or five times wealthier than mine, yet that didn't mean a thing."

"Why did you stop caring about me?" I question him in a shrill tone, almost angry because of things that shouldn't matter anymore.

He shrugs. "I never really did. I'm here after all, aren't I? That should tell you something." Tahno almost sighs, seemingly uncomfortable as he raises his icy blue eyes up to me. "Do you think I can have the whiskey back? The glass is still out, after all. Hell, maybe you could even have some with me. I bet every other guest is pretty much gone by now, I'm sure you wouldn't embarrass yourself or anything."

Hesitantly, I consider. He's right; it's only him and Bolin now, and Bolin will need to sleep off the champagne. "Maybe," I state defensively. "I'd need a glass, too."

"It's your house. You don't know where you keep the shot glasses?" He laughs and slides off the stool, then reaches over the counter to pull out a second glass. "You'll need to come over to this side, though. It's not proper to drink from the bartender's side."

I slide around the corner and pull out a stool. Tahno pours us both a small amount of liquid, and holds his glass up to me. "To old friends?" He proposes.

I smile and clink my glass against his. "Cheers."

* * *

_Part IX_

A first with her.

A second.

A third.

Words slip away from my tongue, words I'd wish I could smother and erase from Asami's ears.

"Anyone besides that douchebender Mako ever tell you that you're completely stunning, Asami?" I mentally slap myself after the words leave my lips. She looks at me, at first a bit confused, but laughs lightheartedly.

Blatantly more of a lightweight than I, Asami throws her arm around my shoulder. "Tahno, anyone besides your mother ever tell you that you need a new hairstyle?" She cackles loudly, throwing her head back and nearly tossing herself off the stool. Asami grabs the edge of the bar suddenly, shocked that she almost fell.

"Maybe you should slow down," I lower the bottle away as she starts to pour herself another drink. "Wouldn't want you falling and cracking your skull on the floor, now would we?" I steady her as she teeters in her seat, running my hand down the back of her silky black dress. She smiles, and unexpectedly leans into my shoulder, sliding my hand down towards her hip. I amend my sentence. "Maybe _we_ should slow down. Feeling up a girl when she's drunk generally makes me feel like a scum." I push her back slightly, her emerald eyes widening in disappointment.

Frowning, she averts her eyes. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I too look away. "Maybe… I should leave. Let you get some sleep."

She grasps the sleeve of my suit suddenly, alert and aware that I had also been drinking. "Tahno, you can't. That's not safe! The road back to the city is dangerous enough already… but now it's raining, and you've had a few drinks…" her wide, concerned eyes draw closer and closer into mine, and I shake my head and smile.

"Okay, if you insist, I'll find a couch."

Asami leads me to the drawing room, where I see Bolin passed out on his stomach on a massive, soft couch. "Huh," Asami whispers. "He moved."

I smother a laugh, and take my place on a couch across the room.

"Goodnight, you two," she smiles as she passes through the archway to the hall.

My eyes slowly draw to close, but before I can draw them to a complete close, I hear a loud thud coming from the foyer. Startled, I sit up and dash out to see what happened, and see Asami passed out on the first two stairs.

I bend down and try to wake her. "Asami, are you okay? Did you fall down the whole staircase?"

She slowly shakes her head and groans. "Nuh, I…" I try to lift her to her feet, even taking off her heels for her, but she can't seem to stand on her feet alone.

I wrap her arms over my shoulders and walk her up to her room. The patter of rain on the roof grows louder and louder as the night turns to dawn.

* * *

_Part X_

My eyes flutter open to a harsh headache and a dire thirst for cold water. My throat feels as dry as sandstone, and I cough as I sit up abruptly under my thick brown satin comforter, gasping "Water."

Then, I hear a foreign noise in the early grey sunlight of my room.

"Whuh?" a familiar, low, man's voice rings in my left ear. "You need some water?"

Mortified, I nod and cover my cleavage showing under my lacy slip. It's the same one I was wearing last night, but my mother's Qipao is folded delicately on the same vanity I had taken my gold barrette from. I turn to the man returning with a glass of water, who is only wearing his boxers and his unbuttoned white cotton shirt.

"Tahno, what… what were, or are, why were you in my bed?" I stutter, practically shouting.

"You passed out on the stairs last night, so I practically carried you to your room. And… I suppose I passed out here after helping you out of your dress."

"You didn't—"

He frowns suddenly. "No. I didn't _do_ anything to you, Asami. My clothes are probably on the floor because you're one of the few people in a fifty mile radius to own a furnace." He passes me the glass reluctantly.

I sip at it, my throat instantly flooding with a cooling sensation of relief. Tahno begins to gather his things, pulling on his black slacks and tossing his jacket over his shoulder, despite the fact that his shirt is still unbuttoned.

"Are… you're going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I think I should leave."

I frown and look down at the glass he had retrieved for me. "Please… don't go just yet?"

"Why should I stay?"

"Because I want to talk to you."

"About what, Asami?"

"Anything, really. Isn't that what friends do?"

"Okay." He sighs, throws his jacket down over the foot post and sits down on the bed in a fuss. "Talk."

I frown, not instantly sure what to say. "…I, uh, how much of last night do you remember?"

"Everything."

"Do you remember what you said to me, just before I teased you about your hair?"

He pauses, a bit flushed. "…Yes. I honestly wish I hadn't said it."

Taken back a bit, I feel myself shrinking back into my wall of pillows. "But did you mean it?" I take a pillow next to me and hug it into my chest, hiding from his response.

Tahno grins, and scoots over on the bed to sit across from me. His head tilts to the side slightly, and he tucks a tress of my hair behind my ear as I draw the pillow up over my chin in defense.

"…Of course I did. I've always thought it, even when we were little."

In a sudden rush of emotion, I release the pillow and draw him towards me and into my arms. I feel the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat against my shoulder, while his breath slows down to almost a calm, steady pace.


End file.
